Mr Saxobeat
by xThe Dark Ravenx
Summary: Romano goes to visit Spain like many times before, and now that Spain has a new dance studio in his home he offers to teach Romano how to dance and Romano accepts that offer.


_**Mr. Saxobeat.**_

_**This fanfic was insipid by the song Mr. Saxobeat by Alexandra Stan. I **__**highly**__** suggest you listen to the song while reading this.**_

_**I also know that Salsa dancing is a Latin dance and it has a few different styles (some use a swing type and so on) depending on the dancers, but I imagine Spain likes to dance so please do not bother me about the dance. This is a fanfic after all.**_

Spain tapped his feet on the ground to the quick beat of the music that played. Across his forehead a sheet of sweat had formed from his hours of dancing. The red, orange and yellow room around him had been recently finished and he was quick to take advantage of the new hardwood floor below him. His brown hair turned with him as he sang along.

"Oh, yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah, mmm yeah..." he went on without thinking, he knew this dance, he knew these floors and he knew this song. He also knew that he was good at it. Very good at it.

Another beat went by and he quickly at 4/4 it was perfect for the salsa dance even if it wasn't traditional. As hours had passed him, through the windows of the room it had begun to reach early evening and he would have to stop soon to go eat with Romano. Even if Romano no longer lived with him and Italy was independent, Romano seemed to spend a lot of his time in Spain and he visited the house often enough when there was no chaos around the world.

"Mr. Saxobeat…" The song ended after the last vocal line bringing Spain to his last step, his foot came down in a sharp angle and he froze as if on a stage. His breathing was heavy, sweat dripped down his face, his armpits had been wet and so was the collar of his shirt. Spain felt like he had swept up the world with his dancing. It wasn't long after that he slumped feeling exhaustion quickly over take him, his muscles felt sore even if he was well kept and his legs felt shaky from so many repeated steps. Just as the day had been coming to and end so had Spain's dancing.

The walls that he called his own were around him, his happy attitude had followed him from the dance room, to his bedroom and then to the bathroom where the hot water had began running. Spain hopped in after stripping, letting the water run down his face and just as he thought he was alone he began to sing the words from the song,

"You make me this, Bring me up, Bring me down, Play it sweet, Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat!"

"What is that Tomato-Bastard doing?" Romano, an Italian young man who had walked into the house as if it was his own asked out loud to himself as if someone would answer. He was dressed in his usual tan outfit, and today like many others he still harbored his bad attitudes and held a tomato in one hand. He brought the tomato to his mouth and took a bite letting the juice run down his lips and almost reach his chin until his hand interfered wiping it away. As Romano walked through the house he could hear Spain singing, "Mr. Saxobeat."

"Hey! Spain!" Romano yelled finding the bathroom door and slamming his fist against it.

"Hey!" Spain yelled from the opposite side of the door, "Hola Romano!" The water kept going, "I will be out in a minuet!"

Romano looked at the door with a hard glare, as much as he hated to admit it he liked to have Spain around, after all he did teach him and Romano brought back some culture when Italy became whole.

"Romano?" Spain called.

"I am right here!" Romano called back stepping away from the door, "I will be waiting." By waiting Romano meant his old room that was now old and hadn't been used as often as it once was. He stepped in careful as if it was a sacred ground, but really it held some of his best memories. The white sheets were clean and still smelt fresh, the pillow was exactly how he left it and even some of the cloths from his younger days were still there. Romano walked in, hands shoved into his pockets as he walked over to his old bed, the one that was still his and he still slept in occasionally. His butt hit the mattress, his eyes staring at the floor and for several minuets he stared thinking, and once again he heard that sound of singing.

"You make me this, Bring me up, Bring me down, Play it sweet, Make me move like a freak, Mr. Saxobeat!" Spain's voice was clear in the house which made Romano turn back, but this time it wasn't Spain, it came from a different room.

"What the crapola?" Romano asked pushing himself up, never had he heard this song play in Spain's house. Romano ventured down the hall with his hands at his sides, he come to a room that he had never seen before and stepped in.

"Tomato-bastard, what are you doing?" He barked at the older country who was now dressed; only his hair was damp.

"Oh Romano!" Spain looked over and smiled, "I am just fixing the radio, making the song start over for later. Once the radio was set Spain stood up, he stood just taller then Romano.

Romano craned his neck to look at the radio again and shrugged letting the radio go, he looked around the room and looked to see the mirrors, they were large and took up one wall and had a rail along them, he came to the conclusion that the room was meant for dance fairly quickly. For a moment Romano thought about dance, but then he thought about Italy and shook the thoughts away.

"What's wrong Romano?" Spain had asked watching his cores of actions which concerned him a little, somehow the room had drawn a barrier between them.

"Nothing, let's just eat." Romano muttered and walked from the room, his foul mood returning.

Romano looked down at his food, just as Spain did before he took a large bite of a tomato slice, in front of them was salad. Romano's gaze was stuck on the salad and with his fork he stabbed a tomato slice.

"How is Italy?" Spain asked in between bites of food.

"My Brother is stupid." Romano looked away as he shoved the tomato in his mouth.

"Hmmm…" Spain looked at Romano, he knew something was wrong but he didn't want to ask, which translated to he didn't want to be head butted, or hit, or poked with a fork.

Romano shoved some green into his mouth, continuing to look out into the hall, "well?" he asked.

The older country looked up from his salad, the fork still in his mouth, "well?" he asked a little confused.

Romano sighed, "Why do you always ask about my brother?" The fork prodded at the green on the plate.

"I care about you and your brother, it isn't a crime." Spain put his fork down, he knew this was a touché subject but very few times had he even talked to Romano about it. If it wasn't being called a bastard, or an insult or getting into a quarrel and having to come to the younger country's rescue it was something else entirely. To put it easily, Romano was complicated.

"Hm," Romano sighed putting his fork down to and looking at Spain, "I know you prefer him over me." That statement made Spain stop; his usual smile had fallen from his face into a serious frown,

"Romano that isn't true, I like you both equally."

"Then why is it, it is always Italy this! Italy that? I know Italy is better at everything, but don't you enjoy my company?"

"Of course I do." Spain said lifting his fork back up and stabbing the last bit of salad. He watched as Romano moved his hands when he spoke, it was just like how Italy talked, so why did Romano think they were so different?'

"Hm…" Romano looked down, in his eyes there was a war, his own war that no one else seemed to reach him at.

"Tell you want," Spain said.

Romano lifted his head, "what?"

"What if I teach you a dance?"

A thick silence passed them, Romano and Spain both looked at each other as if it were a game and Romano was trying to figure out if Spain was lying.

"Cosa?" Romano asked, "Mi? Dance?" Romano almost laughed. He waved a hand at Spain, "that is stupid."

"Romano, I am offering you something, I could teach you a dance, and we could perform it and I know how much you want to be good at something." Spain pushed his plate away.

"You make it sound like I am desperate…" Romano grumbled, a light blush of embarrassment was over his cheeks. Slowly he pushed his chair out and sighed, "I don't need stupid dancing, I can whip some butt!"

Spain sighed, he knew that Romano was more bark then bite. "If you dance well enough then you could become better than Italy…." he spoke up as if the words were a limited offer in the making.

Romano stopped in his tracks and whirled around, "I don't need to be better then Italy at dancing! I don't need anything!"

Spain looked over as Romano angrily left the room; he swore he could see small clouds of steam leave the younger counties head.

Romano looked at his bed and once again planted himself on that spot, him dancing? Impossible, he couldn't even clean. Never mind dance a step without breaking or hurting someone or something. The young Italian sighed falling sideways, he lifted his bare feet and placed them down on the bed, was it possible that he could be better then Italy? Maybe. Was he willing to work at it? Who knows.

"Tomato-bastard…." He mumbled to himself as he looked up, remembering. It had become very clear, very quickly that Austria disliked him when he was young so he gave him away like a human gives away new born puppies. It was Spain who took him in and learned very quick that Romano was useless. Romano couldn't clean, he couldn't cook very well when he was younger, but he had gotten better, and Romano was lazy, very lazy. Even after all that Spain had kept him, after all the head butts, all the hitting and yelling, even in his teenage years as a country Spain was there. It was strange that he would go through all the trouble.

Romano's head turned to face the door, the open door to the hall; he had heard the strides of Spain. Then he heard that music again, Mr. Saxobeat.

'Make me this, please me up, please me down, pleasing sweet, Make me move like a freak Mr. Saxobeat' The music was fast and it was dance worthy, Romano found himself moving a little to the music but he was quick to make himself stop.

"Stop it…" He looked down to his feet and glared as if they had their own mind, they had stopped moving. The he heard the music again,

'You make me this, Bring me up, Bring me down, Play it sweet, Make me move like a freak Mr. Saxobeat!'

Once again Romano felt his feet move and he glared again. He this time pushed himself up and threw himself off the bed and marched over to the door and slammed it shut.

Spain heard a slam and stopped, "Romano?" he asked and reached for the radio to shut the CD off. Then he heard nothing, "hmmm" he hummed walking to the door and peaked his head out. After a few minuets of looking down the hall and realizing the younger country slammed the door and shrugged and went back into the room. He pressed a button on the Radio and once again the song started playing.

Spain's feet moved, his weight went from his right to his left and he was in the groove rather quick. He danced as if he had an invisible woman partner and twisted his arms as if she were there. If a woman was there Spain would have embraced her in the dance and ran his fingers down her back in a tender way. The optimistic country smiled at these thoughts, his eyes closed. If only he had a woman there.

His green eyes when open were fierce, his skin tanned from being in the sun and his brown hair still following the motions of his steps for one last time before he called it a night.

Secretly from his bedroom Romano had opened the door, he was a little annoyed but the music had played long enough to get the younger one interested in what all the commotion was in the house. He left his jacket on the bed, he was in his pants and shirt unlike his brother would have been since he wasn't sleeping. Sometimes Romano had wondered if Italy slept naked if he was with anyone else because he made Italy dress in his cloths, but like always they got into a fight over it and Romano knew Italy liked to sleep naked or just strip given the chance. He walked to the door and down the hall where the music had gotten louder and pulsed, now the door to the dance room was shut but through a crack he could see the happy Spaniard dancing as if he had to dance for his life.

Spain danced fast, his moves were sharp and crisp and at one point he went a little free style with the music, but he was always quick to come back and throw his hands back and his feet to the beat. Romano watched as Spain had moved majestically, not even, he moved like he was dancing life, the lingo was amazing to him. Romano had seen Italy dance, but nothing like Spain had danced.

Spain went until the end of the song and smacked the button on the radio to turn the music off once he had come to the last step. It was now silent, but even Romano now missed the beat of the song which was played and he wanted to see some more.

"Romano?" Spain called to see if the Italian was awake, but he go no answer, maybe it would be tomorrow that the young Italian had changed his mind, but Romano had been outside the door and he didn't want to be caught.

Just as the Spaniard had went to clean up, Romano had used the chance to escape and run away into his room. It wasn't a crime that he had been watching that Tomato-bastard, but he didn't want to be asked about the dance.

The older country had taken his time, and Romano heard him do so. Spain picked up the radio, tucked it back into a corner and he looked around and then shut the light off to the room. Then he had walked down the hall, and by this point Romano had thrown his cloths off, all but his boxers and wife beater and threw them to the floor, and Spain lightly wrapped on the door and opened it. Romano had tucked himself under the light covers since it was in the summer months.

"Romano?" Spain called quietly and waited for a response but realized he would get none. "Good night Romano."

Spain approached the bed that Romano had been sleeping on and he brushed the young man's hair from his face just as he had done when Romano was a child. A small smile came to Spain's lips as he did this, he remembered waiting until the younger country was asleep to lightly touch the curl on his head. Once he had done this, Spain ventured out of the room and shut the door.

Romano listened for the foot steps of Spain to go away as he opened his eyes in the darkness. 'Tomorrow' he thought to himself,

'Tomorrow I learn how to dance.'


End file.
